“It has all been a mistake, hasn’t it?” “No more talking,” the doctor interposed. This is my friend, Mr. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. Then he turned to Anna. Disillusion stands in one doorway of our house and Mockery in the other. The door popped open with a sigh.
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